A Dubious Cocktail
by Corcalamus
Summary: He had decided, in his infinite wisdom, that this should be a party to remember and it was, for most of the crew at least. For Jim Kirk himself, however, it had blurred together into a sort of haze of colour, alcohol, music, lights and laughter.


**Title: **A Dubious Cocktail

**Authour: **Corcalamus

**Betas: **Dracavia

**Series/Fandom: **Star Trek Reboot

**Rating:**PG-13

**Length:** 3708

**Pairing/Characters:** Kirk/Spock

**Genre:** Comedy, First Time

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, but they are fun to play with.

He had decided, in his infinite wisdom, that this should be a party to remember and it was, for most of the crew at least. For Jim Kirk himself, however, it had blurred together into a sort of haze of colour, alcohol, music, lights and laughter.

**A Dubious Cocktail**

He had decided, in his infinite wisdom, that this should be a party to remember and it was, for most of the crew at least. For Jim Kirk himself, however, it had blurred together into a sort of haze of colour, alcohol, music, lights and laughter. Certainly it had left its impression, by the pounding headache he had as he opened his eyes the next morning. He squinted at the floor, he was impressed, there were no clothes strewn about the floor, in fact, they were all neatly folded and sitting on the chair, and he had a glass of water by his bedside.

He winced as he felt the large welt of a bruise on his shins. He knew where it had come from even if he didn't remember doing it. For five years he'd slept in that cabin and for five years, every night he'd spent in that damn cabin he cracked at least one of his shins off the edge of his bed. He suspected he was going to be telling his hypothetical grandchildren about that bruise as he doubted it would ever go away.

Jim lay quietly for a few moments, despite his epic hangover, he felt good. The party, what he could remember of it, had been great. They had made an effort to provide good food, good drinks, and a band had played. It hadn't been a huge band, but Scotty knew some people on the engineering crew who played together and talked them into playing at the party with a couple of bottles of good scotch.

Speaking of Scotty, he had provided some great whiskey, Bones had donated a 'few bottles of brandy kept for medicinal purposes' and, God bless Chekov and his Russian roots; he had brought the best vodka Jim had ever had the fortune (or misfortune) to taste.

Perhaps that was why the night had become such a blur? Jim was no stranger to a drink, he'd been recruited for Starfleet in a bar after all, in a round about way. But God that vodka would make anyone weak at the knees. It was smooth, had a fire on the finish and felt very clean on the tongue. He slowly sat up, as the memories of the night before swam in front of him. He realised it got blurry when he decided (along with Scotty) that mixing whiskey, vodka and brandy was a great 'cocktail'.

Only now, by the harsh light of the computer readout, could he see how that was perhaps not the smartest idea he'd ever had. He wanted to blame Scotty for coming up with the idea, but he had a sneaking suspicion he was the one that suggested it and actually wanted to find 'something awesome' to put in with it.

A smile graced his lips as he slowly sat up. He remembered sitting at the table with Scotty and the three bottles. He laughed as he remembered Spock's raised eyebrow, which said 'I think that's a terrible idea but it's best if they learn the hard way or they'll never learn at all.'.

Jim really loved that Vulcan bastard.

Scolding himself about using the 'L' word, he got out of bed quickly. He'd known Spock for just over five years and in those five years they'd gone from hating each other (even though Vulcans aren't supposed to have emotions) to having great chemistry on the bridge and having a ship that ran like a dream. It wasn't until the past six months when he realised their mission was coming to an end that he started having some unpleasant thoughts and odd feelings about his first officer. He was going to be planet based for at least a year while the Enterprise was refitted. They both were.

A whole year... and where would Spock go? New Vulcan? Jim thought that was a distinct and somewhat depressing possibility. Off he would go to New Vulcan, he'd get himself a wife, have a bunch of Vulcan babies to 'repopulate', and when the Enterprise was ready Spock would let it pass by and he'd stay on New Vulcan with his babies.

Jim sighed, he was just depressing himself. All the joy that had been put in him from the party was slipping away, and so he forced himself out of bed. While part of him wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with his hangover and his worries, he knew he couldn't. He finally dragged himself off to take a shower and reluctantly get ready for the day.

He walked out of his quarters and began his walk to the turbolift. Being Captain gained him a certain amount of notoriety, people took notice usually when he walked past, but this morning it was different. This morning he felt like people were watching him and abruptly stopping conversations whenever he came near. He told himself it was just his imagination, that being tired and hungover he was being sensitive and moody. He knew he was being a bit moody what with his pining for Spock.

'No' he told himself sternly, scowling as he walked, 'it is not _pining_, you're just going to miss him when he's on New Vulcan. You can visit him, it's not like he's going to be somewhere you can't ever visit.' The thought of visiting Spock on New Vulcan with his family galled him. Ever since contemplating these ideas of Spock being 'somewhere else' he'd just gotten into a depression. 'You don't love him, you don't. You care about him, you care _a lot_ about him. He's your compadre, your brother, you have a _bro_mance not a _ro_mance.'

He rubbed his head as he stood waiting on the turbolift. God his head hurt. He wanted his bed... and if not his bed at least he'd have his chair. God he loved his chair. He'd need to make sure the people refitting his baby didn't take his chair. He'd need to kill anyone that touched it.

'Did you hear about the Captain?'

Jim paused, he heard the voice from down the corridor behind him. He stayed quiet, he didn't recognise the voice but he heard someone reply in a hushed, hurried whisper.

'Didn't hear all the details but-'

Whatever it was, Jim didn't get to hear as the turbolift doors opened. He scowled a bit and walked into the turbolift, yawning widely. It was a few moments before he realised the turbolift wasn't empty. He realised Spock was standing right _there_.

"Morning Spock," he said, trying not to think about just how _good _it was to see him after his moping. Seeing Spock really did brighten up his day.

"Good morning Captain..." Spock quietly replied.

Jim looked at Spock for a few moments, it was odd, he wouldn't meet his gaze, he stared straight ahead and... was he blushing? He definitely had a distinct green tinge to his cheeks.

For some strange reason Jim had this odd feeling in his stomach, like he'd done something stupid the night before. He felt himself flushing a bit, even though he didn't know exactly what it was, but it must have been something _really _stupid as even Spock couldn't look at him. Before he could ask, however, the turbolift stopped and Spock disembarked and left quickly.

Jim wouldn't call it 'fleeing', but Spock didn't usually walk _quite_ so fast.

And Jim was beginning to feel really self conscious. He shook his head as the lift began moving again. He was imagining it, Spock probably just had to go to the science lab for an experiment that was really time sensitive, yes, that was it.

He'd have believed that delusion too, if it hadn't been for what awaited him on the bridge. As he stepped off the turbo lift and looked around, he realised that none of his officers would look at him either. He sat down on his chair and sighed, his chair wasn't as comfy as usual. He had the usual morning reports to look over, mostly crew reports, general ship information, all the boring morning stuff.

He caught Uhura's eye and she shook her head _at_ him. She also rolled her eyes. She was never his 'best friend', and she often gave him exasperated looks, but this seemed much more exasperated than usual. He stood and walked over to her, leaning over her station as he pretended he was looking at something on her monitor.

"What did I do?"

She looked at him and shook her head again. "No, it's not my place to say," she said, looking at her monitor, "If you want to know, ask McCoy."

"No, if it's that bad that you won't tell me he'll just laugh about it."

"It's no laughing matter," Uhura said, still looking at her monitor. "Have you seen Spock this morning?"

"Yes..." Jim didn't like that this was her first question.

"And what did he say?"

"He said 'good morning Captain,' in those exact words. Not exactly profound."

"He's supposed to be on duty on the bridge this morning. Odd that he didn't come up here with you if you bumped into him. Where did you bump into him?"

"On the turbolift, he probably had something on in the science lab."

"No... he didn't," Uhura said. Jim opened his mouth to ask again what he did but she turned away from him, "Ask McCoy... or Spock himself. It's not my place to say."

"Whit?"

"What did I do, come on Scotty, whatever I did it's your fault, you and that damned whiskey."

"Shut it," Scotty said as he disappeared back into his cabin. Jim cursed him upside down in his head, bastard had the morning off. "Come in Jim, don't mind the mess like, I'm no long up. And for the record Captin I think it wis mhare the 'Cocktails' fault."

Jim walked into Scotty's cabin and Scotty sat on the edge of his bed. His cabin was a riot, his clothes were all over the floor like his had been the night before. Scotty had a confused, 'I'm just awake' look on his face and Jim sighed. If Scotty was in this bad a state, it was very unlikely that he'd manage to get any information out of him.

"What did I do? None of my officers will even _look_ at me."

"Well..." Scotty said, contemplating, "Ye did dae a great impression of Uhura. Ye hid the heels on and everythin'. She wisnae that impressed wi' ye, but then, when is she ever impressed wi' you?."

"Heels! Where did I get heels from!"

"Ensign Harker, you know, that lassie with the big-"

"Alright, I know who Ensign Harker is."

"Well, you know she's a _big_ lassie, and she let you borrow them. I remember that really well, was feckin' hilarious."

Jim sat down on the other end of Scotty's bed, that would be why Uhura had been particularly frosty with him that morning. Why had he drank so much? 'To blot out the idea that Spock is going to be going 'elsewhere'.

"You know, you were talkin' an awful lot about Spock..." Scotty said, his eyes seeming to sober up a bit. "Aye... I remember now. You were telling me how much ye were gonna miss him when we finished up."

Jim felt his cheeks flush, "Well, he's my best friend."

"Nah, he's more than that," Scotty said flopping back onto the bed, "What was it he calls you again? Thola, th'ela..?"

"He calls me his t'hy'la..." Jim frowned and looked round at Scotty, "It's a Vulcan word that means 'life long friend'..."

"I've never heard him call anyone else that, or another Vulcan use the word."

Jim frowned dubiously, "How many Vulcans do you know really well?"

"Not many, but I know him well enough to know that he puts a lot of stock in that word, and a lot of stock in you. I don't know what you did exactly last night, I can barely remember gettin' back to my cabin mesel. In fact, I think McCoy dragged me back calling me a 'drunken Scottish ass,' an' I said 'naw, I'm drunk i_off/i_ my Scottish ass,' and passed out... I think."

Jim laughed and shook his head, "You're insane."

"Nah, I just know how to enjoy mesel at a party. And by god Jim, that was a fuckin' brilliant party. Now, if you'll excuse me I have another couple of hours of dyin' to do before I can move. Go see McCoy, I'm sure he'll tell you what you did."

He'd gone to Sulu next and all Sulu had said was 'You were very merry, Captain, and you spent much of your time with Scotty... You did do some odd things with the alcohol on offer. I believe Chekov advised you against the cocktail you and Scotty concocted...'

When he went to Chekov he said, 'Vell Captain, you had wery much to drink. I told you that the cocktail vas a bad idea but you vouldn't listen... I vould ask McCoy vhat happened as he is best person to tell you.'

Jim really didn't want to ask Bones. Whomever else he'd asked denied all knowledge of 'what he did' or directed him to McCoy. He didn't like that everyone directed him to McCoy, it was like they didn't want the responsibility of telling him. He still couldn't remember, he stood outside the sickbay and tried with all his might to remember, before submitting himself to his friend for ridicule and mocking.

He stepped into the sick bay and McCoy looked up at him, the fact that the mocking wasn't immediate worried him a little. McCoy merely pointed at the chair beside him and said "Sit."

Jim felt like a kid being sent to the principal's office, only this time he didn't know what he'd done to warrant it. He'd been sent there often enough to know the feeling. So he sat down and looked at McCoy.

"You want to know what you did?"

Jim nodded.

"You're sure about that?"

"Oh God... Bones, what did I do?"

Bones leaned back in his chair, regarding Jim carefully. "You, my foolish friend, spent ten minutes professing your undying love for our resident hobgoblin. In the middle of the party, in front of everyone. And yes, you said it all _to his face_."

It was so much worse than Jim could have imagined.

"You proceeded to map his life out for him. You told him he didn't need to have a wife and six children, because 'Love is more important, it doesn't matter that I can't have your babies'." A grin now spread across McCoy's face.

"No... no, I didn't... you're making this shit up Bones."

"You're my t'hy'la and I love you."

As Bones said the words, the memories clicked into place. They were in fast forward, he remembered now how he got to his cabin, _Spock _had escorted him there. That was why his clothes had been neatly folded, Spock had folded them and got him a glass of water and made sure he was safe.

"Oh God..."

He remembered now how Scotty had tried to talk him out of talking with Spock that night, to 'leave it till the morning' when he was thinking straight. He remembered walking right up to Spock and telling him that he loved him, that he didn't want him to go so far away. He remembered telling Spock that Earth was now his home, not New Vulcan. He remembered Spock telling him to be quiet and that he was drunk, and that he'd think differently in the morning.

But he didn't, in fact, he felt all those emotions all the more now. He looked up at McCoy and he shook his head, "Jim, you can be a dumb ass sometimes. You're a brilliant captain, but when it comes to personal shit you like to fuck it up. Go see him."

"But he doesn't want me," Jim said, the thought of being outright rejected stung. Spock told him the night before 'you'll think different in the morning.'

"Did you ask him?"

"What? Ask him what?"

"Ask him if he wants you? God, do I need to spell it out for you? You need to go talk to him, and not assume what he does or doesn't want. If he rejects you outright, well... at least you'll know and won't be moping about pining after him for the next 18 months, like you have the past 6."

"I have _not _been pining!"

"You've been like a lost little puppy, Jim, at the thought of being away from him. Go talk to him."

He'd need to apologise, and apologise profusely and wholeheartedly. He had to make Spock see that it was just the alcohol, that he didn't mean it. That he was sorry for embarrassing them both in front of everyone. He pressed on the doorbell and after a few moments the door opened.

"Jim..." Spock said, looking at him.

"Spock... I remember what I did, I'm sorry. Can I come in?"

Spock hesitated a moment and then nodded, stepping aside to let him enter. Jim walked in, standing in the middle of the room. He was unsure now of what he wanted to say. Two sides of him fought, on the one hand he could deny what he felt and keep Spock as his friend. Hope that perhaps the distance between them would put the stupid notions of love out of his head, or he could confess all... and as frightening as it seemed, he wanted to. He _really _wanted to, he loved him and that was all he could think about as he looked at his first officer.

"Jim, there is no need to apologise."

"Yes there is, I made a fool out of myself at your expense last night... I'm sorry... I let my emotions cloud my judgment. I should have waited, I shouldn't have said anything... I'm sorry. I know you'll not be interested, I'm not even sure why I feel like this, but I do, and I think time and distance, when we're off ship in two weeks, will be good for me. You'll be able to find yourself a wife and-"

Jim didn't notice Spock walking towards him while he spoke. He didn't even truly notice when he stood directly in front of him. But he did notice when the Vulcan tilted his chin up slightly and kissed him, cutting off all other words. It felt glorious. Jim felt a shiver run up his spine as Spock pulled him closer. He pulled back out of the kiss, looking at him with some curiosity.

"Jim, when did you decide that I was to have a wife?"

"I... just... assumed... re-population?" Jim's mind was still reeling.

"There are other options... you said last night that you loved me. I was unsure if you were just being overly emotional, as humans often are when they have consumed too much alcohol. I witnessed 94 professions of love last night between people I know whom care about each other, but do not 'love' each other. Scotty told me himself that he loved me as well."

Jim laughed.

"You can see where I might be a little dubious on such a confession when I witnessed your dubious cocktail consumption. Might I add your 'cocktail' could very well be considered a poison. And before you say another word, t'hy'la, let me tell you that I love _you_. I have found myself dreading the end of our journey together. I did not wish to be apart from you and it seems we have both been frightened to speak."

Jim smiled, "Well... I'm sort of glad I got so drunk then."

"What is it Mr Scot would say? 'Dutch Courage'?"

Jim nodded and ran his hands over Spock's arms. God it felt _good_ to just stand there with permission to touch him. And it felt good to know that Spock wanted him, that he wasn't delusional or insane. Spock truly wanted him.

"Jim... I will still be returning to New Vulcan for a time. I wish to visit my father... but then I was planning on going to Earth. To teach for a year before going back on the Enterprise... but only if you are her captain."

The smile faltered a little, "Of course I'll be the captain."

"You'd be welcome to come to New Vulcan with me, if you wished."

Jim grinned, "Sounds good to me. Be good to see the settlement again, and to see other Spock... but what about now?"

"Well, as of this moment, we have been officially off duty for 5 minutes," Spock said, contemplating. "If you are feeling up to it, we could... cement our relationship."

Jim and Spock both looked at the bed and Jim grinned, "You're full of good ideas today."

"I am always full of good ideas," Spock said, and kissed him once again.

They locked the door and fell into bed, finally showing the love they had secretly harbored for each other, all thanks to a dubious cocktail.


End file.
